My anxiety kept me awake and, without anything to do, I sat hidden in a corner whilst staring out towards the endless expanses of the woods. I remembered how beautiful the forest was and the feeling of adventure that ran through me; I remembered the mysterious yet entrancing glass decoration that hung from the tree branch and I wanted nothing more than to go back and see it. Yet, just as soon as I was content with my memories of the forest, did my mind immediately jump back to my missing friend.
He could be anywhere. The trees could even be hiding him from everyone and no one will find him until he's nothing but bones. Oh, God, I hope we find him. I thought with a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. I tried to push my worrisome thoughts out of my head, but the harder I tried, the more painful it would be when they jumped back into focus. I was on the verge of tears when suddenly, I heard the sound of boots crunching against the dirt path.
I'm not sure what caused me to believe there was any chance that it was Tom, but the thought that there could've been hope flooded me instantly and I rushed towards the bars of the cage to see who was coming.
The first thing that I noticed that made my heart sink was the man's height; he was short. Much shorter than Tom. And he walked far differently than Tom's proud stride or zig-zagging drunk toddle.
Feeling the disappointment overwhelm me, I sunk back into the shadows and watched sadly as the man approached. I eventually saw, when he had come closer, that he was Cheetah. As much as I was confused by why he was coming to see me this late at night, I couldn't ponder his arrival because my disappointment far out-measured my confusion.
Cheetah approached the bars of the cage and I greeted him with a weak, "hi." Cheetah smiled back and leaned on the bars.
"Hey... I'm sorry, you're probably very confused," he stated. I nodded slowly in response.
"I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk... I remembered you're kind of alone here so I thought I'd pay a visit and sit with you for a while," he explained. I thought it was very thoughtful of him to think of me but at the same time, I had an air of suspicion over him.
"Uh... thank you..." I didn't know what else to say. I enjoy his company during the day but at night, it made me feel uncomfortable. His slight resemblance to my now-missing best friend did nothing to console me; if anything his features in the dark made him look even more like TomCat and it made me uneasy.
"So how are you holding up?" Cheetah wondered softly. I shrugged and said nothing and my silence created an awkward tension between the two of us. I wondered if Cheetah would leave seeing how unbearable it was, but alas, he didn't and he forced a subject to converse about whether I liked it or not.
"I had a very interesting dream last night. I was flying over a forest and it was really cold for some reason. Under me, there was a really big river and I remember feeling nothing but fear. It was very strange," he explained, looking off towards the distance while he retold his dream. I listened, as awkward as I felt.
"Did anything happen?" I wondered quietly. Cheetah's brow furrowed as he thought.
"I don't remember. I just remember flying over the river and being afraid. Kind of as if the river was going to suddenly drag me down and drown me... dreams are funny like that."
I nodded, thinking back to a weird dream that I had as well, "I had a dream I was in a field of flowers once."
"That sounds peaceful," Cheetah commented.
"It was, I guess. But the flowers followed me wherever I went and I led them over a cliff..." I continued. Cheetah pondered my dream for a while, before eventually inquiring for more.
"I could walk across the cliff but the flowers couldn't and I felt bad so I turned back. The flowers were bigger when I returned and I remember feeling proud," I continued on.
"Now that is a perplexing one. I'm sure the fortune-teller could interpret it for you... if only she weren't scared of you," Cheetah answered. I shrugged half-heartedly.
"That's her issue," I mumbled, mostly to myself but Cheetah still heard and flashed me a cheeky smirk.
"My, my, my, Tae, have you gotten an attitude?" he teased.
"No! I, uh... maybe... I don't know," I stammered defensively. Cheetah chuckled.
"I don't blame you. I would be bitter too if I were stuck in a cage a majority of my life," he sighed. For a while, he went quiet; deep in thought about subjects and ideas far too complex for me to even begin to comprehend. However, after a long period of silence between us, he turned his head to face me and, with sincerity in his eyes, he asked, "Have you ever considered running from this place?"
His question caught me off guard; the seriousness in his tone of voice, the oddly blank stare he gave me, it was a complete contrast to the whimsy conversation we just had prior to this question. My train of thought had rolled off its tracks and I could only stare at Cheetah, trying to comprehend an answer.
Eventually, I began to think again and, after a moment, I responded, "N-No... I guess I haven't..."
"Why not?" Cheetah wondered, "I mean... you are clearly not having the best of times in this damned cage. You have so many chances to run for your life! Hell, I was half-expecting you to run when we were searching for Tom,"
"I-I don't know... I guess... this place has been the only home I've known... and I guess the thought of not living here scares me..." I answered. His words and reasonings had me thinking deeply. He had me thinking so deeply that I began to question if everyone was lying to me when they said they cared... including TomCat. That's ridiculous! TomCat cares about me! He wouldn't treat me like a performer if he didn't care! He would treat me like a mere prop if he didn't!
"Well, I don't know what sort of voodoo the ringmaster has you under to keep you here, but I know for a fact that if you were to run... I would cheer you on," Cheetah stated.
"But... why?" I wondered, scooting closer to the bars and watching him with deep interest.
"You don't belong in a cage... you're just a young child. Now, I know you're different from normal people but I've seen your sweet side and I know you can be just as human as the rest of us if given the chance," Cheetah told me truthfully. His words were the closest thing to an angel's hymn that I've heard in a long time. They reached my ears and went straight to my heart, where they sunk deep and sent waves of bittersweetness throughout me. I wanted to cry because I knew he was being sincere and no one has ever said those words while being sincere and that's what made me happy.
No words that I could think of could accurately give me a response to Cheetah's kindness. Instead, I quietly offered if he would like to sit with me inside the cage. It was an invite that only TomCat had the privilege of receiving. Cheetah, although bewildered at first, eventually agreed and unlocked the cage door to step inside. He left the gate open while he sat at the bars, awkwardly trying to feel comfortable on the hard metal. He soon settled down and for a while more, there was silence again as we struggled to find a conversation.
At last, we found a subject to discuss when I brought up the awkward silence. We joked about it for a while and finally, the barrier of discomfort was lifted and we chatted comfortably for hours on end. Many things ended up coming up in our conversation; I learned Cheetah and Lion used to be newsboys when they were young and they were also reasonably mischievous. They would often go out with BearCat and throw pebbles at the rumps of horses leading carriages or carts to get them running. I told Cheetah how I thought it would've been fun if I could've done the same with a group of friends of my own.
Cheetah sighed and responded quietly, "My sister joined us- I think you only know her as Jaguar but her real name is Emma- she joined us one time and was scolded for 'playing like a boy'."
"But... what's wrong with that?" I asked.
"Young women like you and my sister at the time are expected to sit quietly and do nothing but look pretty. They cook dinner, clean laundry, and raise children. It's looked down upon for girls to do a man's job or play boyish games," Cheetah explained with a tone as if he had suddenly become a school teacher or a wise old grandfather. Despite his tone, I frowned and straightened up to display my confidence.
"That's bullshit," I hissed. Cheetah burst into laughter and, not knowing why or what else to do, I joined in his chorus of laughter.
"I never expected to hear such language from you of all people!" Cheetah laughed, "But I'm not gonna disagree!" He continued to laugh and I laughed with him, still unsure why he found it funny. I guess it was because I was small, or a girl, or maybe because I was just young; who knows. But his laughter was contagious and we continued to laugh for a long while before finally settling down and talking more about everything and nothing.
Cheetah and I had nothing in common, but I'm starting to realise it's because TomCat and Cheetah have nothing in common. I liked what TomCat liked and I listened and did everything TomCat told me to do; I found that when Cheetah and I talked, I discovered more about myself that I didn't even know until then.
My favourite colour was blue, I loved the tigers and the sharp, waltz music that the circus band played throughout the day was not my style, as I loved it best when a lone clarinettist or trumpeter played a slow and graceful tune that was easy on the ears and fun to dance to. I began to think about how my act would change if I were a dancer instead.
Cheetah enjoyed listening to me realise my own preferences, as I'm sure he knew close to nothing about me as well. To him, I was the sad circus beast who angered easily and possessed odd abilities very few have seen. But as he listened to me speak and occasionally remarked on something I said, I could tell he was happy to learn about me. And I was happy to learn about him. I took comfort in knowing someone in this circus besides the ringmaster. And not just knowing his name, but truly knowing him; from his favourite meal that was Sunday brunch right down to a time when he dislocated his shoulder while running from an angry black bear.
I don't remember when I fell asleep but I do remember that I slept well that night and when I had woken up, it seemed as if only a few minutes had passed. I was woken by a bright, piercing glimmer that flickered over my eyes. Upon investigation, I found that glass shards, similar to the ones that I had seen in the woods, had been hung on the branches of the trees behind my cage. The morning sun was glinting off the sharp edges and sparkling brilliantly like river water.
Surely there must've been hung when I had fallen asleep. But whoever had hung them must've done so with such silence and skill so as to not wake me. How they could've done that perplexed me and sparked my need to know who the mysterious culprit was.
I sat for a while in my cage, as I usually do, admiring the pieces of glasses and thinking about my long chat with Cheetah the previous night. I would've done that all day if I had the chance, if only I weren't interrupted by FatCat coming by to tell me I would be accompanying the twins while they rehearsed.
"Why?" I wondered. It was not normal for me to suddenly be placed with the other performers during rehearsal hours. It was not normal for me to be placed with anyone during any time unless it were with Cheetah.
"A couple of officers are coming down to take our report about the master," the strongman responded solemnly. "The rest of us don't want them seeing you in the cage if they decide to look around."
I nodded slowly and FatCat returned to his duties as an unofficial manager for our circus. I was thankful to have another chance to be free for a while but I knew deep down that it was merely to keep the police focused on finding our beloved ringmaster rather than accuse us of child abuse.
Cheetah came by minutes before the gates opened and he walked me into the Big Top so I could partake in my rare "playdate" with the twins. Cheetah had to stay with me as per usual but he was confident enough to let me be free while he sat in the stands with a book to read. I was grateful for his trust and I wanted to keep it like that, so I obediently headed over to the trapeze, where I was expected to go.
As expected, the twins refused to work with me. They wanted nothing to do with me despite knowing why I was there in the first place. Their whines and insults hurt me but they were loud enough to attract the other trapeze artist, BirdCat, who came out from backstage and yelled for the twins to hush up and at least pretend they were enjoying my company. The stubborn kids refused again and fearfully exclaimed that I would try to eat them the very moment I had the chance to.
In my hurt and my building anger, I stomped off towards the stands to sit with Cheetah instead. He had witnessed the whole scene and grumbled about the maturity of the twins... or rather, the lack thereof. BirdCat gave up his efforts when I left and he disappeared backstage again. I sat with Cheetah for a while, looking over his arm at the words of his book and struggling to make out what they said; however, I gave up when I realised that they simply made no sense and there were no pictures to help me. I grew antsy and bored soon after; I wanted to play on the equipment but the others were rehearsing their stunts with them and I didn't want to interfere lest a reenactment of the twins' reaction happens.
I ended up wandering aimlessly around the stands, lost within my imagination and waiting for anything to happen. My moment came, however, when a cluster of police officers entered the Big Top and looked around for who knows what. Cheetah saw the uniformed men and quickly set his book down to greet them. I waited patiently and watched the group, crouched down between the stands as if I were a wild cat preparing to pounce, or perhaps I was playing with the officers even though they had no clue I was even present.
The officers asked Cheetah questions about TomCat and even questions that didn't particularly pertain to finding him. I thought it was curious how they asked so many questions. Cheetah answered the questions as honestly as he could and an officer took notes on what he said. The mens' attitudes seemed off somehow; I couldn't pinpoint exactly why but I knew then that they wouldn't try too hard to find our ringmaster.
After a few more questions in a span of maybe ten minutes, the men thanked Cheetah and left the tent. Cheetah returned to his book without a word to me and I returned to my childish wanderings, thinking about the officers' questions and the answers Cheetah gave them. Perhaps I could've helped answer them since I know more about Tom, or maybe I couldn't because I'm "too young." I thought about what happened until the very second FatCat came to the Big Top to tell Cheetah I could return to my cage and have my attraction opened up. I think that meant the police have left.
The whole day, the circus seemed to be in a state of melancholy that made us all sluggish and stupid. Everyone seemed to act as if they didn't know what to do without proper instruction despite FatCat's attempts at leadership. He too was lost without TomCat's energy and expertise. The night's show was cancelled again because of our incompetence and several guests went home complaining about the Nočne Mačke's sudden laziness.
By the time the circus closed, everyone was exhausted by the guests and even more weary of everything else that had piled on top of our shoulders. Fortunately for me, however, I wasn't as drained as the rest of the performers, so I decided to spend my night spying from the shadows of my cage to see if the hanger of the glass decorations would return. I was anxious to see who it was; maybe I could even talk to them.